


Turning Saints Into The Sea

by NahaFlowers



Category: Black Sails
Genre: (not in an arguing way just in a being too truthful way), Angst, Canon Compliant, Gen, Internalized Homophobia, Jealousy, M/M, Miranda is super protective of Thomas but also has a lot of sad feelings about James, Unresolved Sexual Tension, although really the jealousy is only a cover for the, and then immediately regret it, it's all very complicated but they love each other very much, lots of soft touches and softer looks, pre-relationship angst, they both say stuff they didn't mean to say out loud
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-11 05:18:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11707599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NahaFlowers/pseuds/NahaFlowers
Summary: James asks if Thomas is jealous of him for sleeping with Miranda. But it's not James who Thomas is jealous of.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt 'Wait a minute...are you jealous?' on tumblr.

“Well, that’s us all done for the day, I think, Lieutenant.”

James nodded and stood, returning the smile Lord Hamilton was aiming at him, but not quite meeting his eyes.

“What do you have planned for the evening, Lieutenant?” Thomas’s tone was friendly, but there was an all-too-knowing glint in his eyes.

In truth, James had planned to see Miranda. She had as much as said that Thomas was fine with her extra-marital affairs, but that was not the same as him actually knowing that James himself was sleeping with his wife. Anyway, it wasn’t as if he could just come out and say, ‘oh yes, after this I’m planning to go and fuck your wife, sir’. James felt his cheeks redden at the very thought of it. But he couldn’t quite bring himself to lie to Lord Hamilton, in all his earnestness. He struggled with what to say, before Thomas apparently decided to put him out of his misery.

“Are you going to see my wife, by any chance?” he said. He was smiling, but there was a practiced neutrality to his tone that put James on his guard.

“I am,” he admitted. “Is that-” He swallowed, feeling excruciatingly awkward. “Is that alright with you, sir?”

Thomas blinked rapidly and James noticed, not for the first time, how long his eyelashes were.

“Of course,” he said, although his tone was somewhat strangled. He hitched a smile onto his face. “In fact, I rather encourage her. Although,” he added, almost as an afterthought, but James, who had known Thomas for nearly a month now, knew it was nothing quite so casual, “I’ve never been quite so _close_ to any of her beaus before.”

James felt himself blushing and before he could stop himself, he said, “Wait a minute…are you– jealous?” He blushed harder as Thomas looked at him agape, but stuttered out, “because- if you are- we can stop- it’s not a problem- I mean to say-” He took a deep breath. _Calm down, James, goddamnit._ “Our partnership, and the work we have to do, is what’s most important to me here. I wouldn’t want to compromise it.”

Thomas, who had just been staring at him as he stammered away like an idiot, seemed to come to his sense. He shook his head. “No, I’m not jealous,” he said softly. “Not of you, at least,” he muttered under his breath, but Thomas was avoiding his gaze, and James felt sure Thomas knew he had heard.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.” Thomas shook his head, looking angry at himself, as if he had said too much.

“Thomas,” James said, and the use of his Christian name when James tried so hard to stick to formality snapped Thomas’s attention back to James. “You’re not jealous of _me_ for sleeping with your wife,” James said, his words blunt but his tone puzzling. “So what? You’re jealous of your wife for sleeping with _me_?” Thomas drew in a sharp intake of breath. “No, forget I said that, that was stupid,” he said quickly, praying that Thomas would just pass it over. God, that was the last thing he needed, his very confusing and shameful feelings for Lord Hamilton being mulled over by the man himself – the shrewdest man he’d ever met, to boot.

“No,” said Thomas, and James hunched over, defensive. “That’s- that’s exactly what I meant, James.” He could feel Thomas’s gaze on him, even as he avoided it.

“James,” said Thomas sharply. “Look at me.”

As if magnetised, James’s eyes jumped immediately to Thomas’s, and the depths in that gaze frightened him.

“James,” said Thomas again, sounding dazed, as if the smallest breeze could knock him off his feet, and _God_ , why did he have to keep saying his name like that, it made his blood burn and rush to inconvenient places… “Do you…I mean, could you- feel-”

“I can’t, I’m sorry,” James cut in, before Thomas could finish and damn them both. “I – ah – I have to go,” he said. _You coward, James Mcgraw. You bloody,_ bloody _coward._

Thomas bowed his head in acquiescence. “Of course.”

“And, uh, give Lady Hamilton my apologies,” he said, hating himself more with every word. “Um – please don’t tell her about this.”

Thomas looked at him then, and his eyes were like those of a drowning man who had just been denied rescue, and he realised with a jolt just _why_ Thomas encouraged Miranda’s affairs, why she was so sure he did not mind them – she _knew_ , and it would cost him dear not to be able to talk about this. But, “ _please_ ,” James begged, and _God_ , how was he ever going to be able to look this man in the eye again, let alone work with him, but Thomas was nodding.

“Of course I won’t,” he said in a small voice, and _fuck_ , he sounded like he was about to cry.

“Thank you,” said James hoarsely, looking at his feet. Then, finding no reason to linger other than his own guilt, he turned tail and practically ran out of the room, leaving Thomas looking after his retreating back, distraught.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miranda attempts to sort her boys out, while trying to quell her own feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You asked for a sequel, so here it is! This one's from Miranda's POV.

When Miranda found Thomas half an hour later, his eyes were puffy and red and it was obvious he had been crying. She hurried to his side.

“What happened?” she asked.

Thomas shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said, voice thick.

“Thomas…”

“The lieutenant sends his apologies,” he said, his tone expressionless.

Miranda pursed her lips. “What did he say?”

Thomas looked like he wanted to speak, but bit his lip to stop himself. He looked like he might be about to cry again.

“Thomas!” said Miranda pleadingly.

“Didn’t you hear me?” said Thomas, harshly. “I said I _don’t want to talk about it_!”

Miranda took a deep, calming breath. It would do neither of them any good if she were to get angry as well. “What if I were to go and ask him?”

Thomas took a shaky breath. “Please don’t,” he said. He looked at her, defeated. “He asked me not to tell you.”

“Ah,” said Miranda.

Thomas huffed out a watery laugh. “My sentiments exactly.”

She heaved a sigh, nudging Thomas so he scooted backwards on his chair and dropping into his lap, taking him into her arms. He laid his cheek on her hair and sighed.

“Well,” she said softly, stroking his back, “I think I can gather what happened. But I suppose I won’t do either of you the disloyalty of voicing it.”

“Thank you,” Thomas whispered into her neck.

“I suppose he didn’t come to me because he feels guilty?”

Thomas let out an unhappy little sigh. “Something like that.”

She drew back slightly to look at him. “Do you want me to stop seeing him?”

Thomas looked alarmed. “No, of course not! I never want to be the one to stop you doing anything, my dear, you know that.” He kissed her nose. “You’ll just have to deal with me being horribly jealous from a distance, that’s all.”

“I hate to see you so unhappy,” she said fretfully.

Thomas grimaced, as if to say he knew that, but there was nothing she could do about it.

“Do you think he’ll come back?”

“I’m sure he will eventually. His sense of duty will compel him.” His lips twisted bitterly. “Even if it’s just to tell me that he can’t work with me anymore and he’ll request Admiral Hennessey to have another liaison sent to me.”

“Hm,” said Miranda, pursing her lips.

“Don’t think ill of him, Miranda.” He sighed. “It’s not his fault.”

“Perhaps not,” she said, kissing his forehead. “But I will think what I like, when he’s made you feel like this.”

Thomas smiled then, just a little. “Yes, my love,” he conceded, and they sat there for the best part of an hour, just holding on to each other.

 

Over the next few days, Miranda had hoped it would get better, at least somewhat. She knew that Thomas was hardly going to get over James immediately, but he had had unrequited crushes before, and he always seemed to rally quickly, eager for the next one. It was one of the things Miranda admired about him, his ability to bounce back from disappointment and rejection and heartache.

Five days later, however, there had been little change in Thomas’s mood – if anything, he had sunk into a sad and sullen depression that he seemed unlikely to come out of anytime soon. He became prone to the occasional angry outburst, although he immediately apologised on such occasions and seemed to turn the anger in on himself. As much as she tried to reach out to him, she just couldn’t seem to get through.

It was more than just a crush, then.

Miranda supposed she wasn’t surprised. This was bound to happen sooner or later, she mused. Unlike Thomas, however, she was not convinced that James’s rejection was so straightforward. At the very least, she would at least like to know what had actually been said first, before she gave up on him completely. As Thomas was not going to give her answers, James seemed the only option.

It had been five days and James had not shown up. Nor had they been given any indication from the Admiralty that Thomas was to be assigned a new liaison. Miranda had the feeling that James was lying low, contemplating…whatever had happened. It still frustrated Miranda that she didn’t exactly know. Thomas refused to be disloyal to James, even when he was making him so miserable.

Perhaps that’s what James was doing as well – wallowing in his own misery. Well, Miranda was having no more of it.

“Darling,” she announced, poking her head into the parlour, where Thomas was drinking tea with a deep frown set into his forehead. “I’m going to see Lieutenant McGraw.”

Thomas spluttered on his tea. “W-what?”

“I’m going to see Lieutenant McGraw,” she repeated, unfazed.

Thomas’s eyes flashed and his jaw worked as if wanted to say something, but all that came out was, “All right. Fine.”

She walked over to him and kissed his forehead.

“It’s not what you think,” she said softly. “I’m just going to talk to him.”

Thomas’s brow furrowed, if possible, even further. “About what?”

“Thomas, it’s been five days. He’s sent no word or replacement, and we haven’t requested his presence either. We can’t keep on like this forever.”

Thomas sighed and leaned back into his chair, resting his chin on his hands. “I know,” he said. He glanced up at her. “I should be the one to go.”

“But you won’t, because you don’t want to impose.”

Thomas smiled ruefully, a husband whose wife knew him far too well. “Just-” he said as she started walking out of the room.

She turned back. “Yes?”

“Just let me know that he’s alright,” said Thomas finally, tiredly.

Miranda nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat as she took in the dark circles beneath his troubled eyes, now staring at the fire.

Then she walked out and took the carriage to James’s address.

 

James was not in. Or, at least, he was not answering the door. Miranda dropped her hand from where it had been raised to knock and sighed, at a loss. If James wasn’t home, she had no idea where he would be. She had been so sure he would be home.

She stood there for a few minutes, thinking. She could sit here and wait for him to return, but she had no idea when he would be back – perhaps he had travelled elsewhere, perhaps it would be days. And then she heard someone moving about inside the room – James’s room. She really banged on the door this time.

“James!” she shouted. “James McGraw! You open this door right now!”

The door opened and Miranda almost fell into James’s room.

“Lady Hamilton,” he said with an attempt at nonchalance. “What a lovely surprise!”

“Didn’t you hear me knock?” Miranda said indignantly.

“I did,” James admitted, abashed. “I thought you might be…someone else.”

“You thought I might be Thomas, didn’t you?” said Miranda accusingly. James nodded, seeing no point in denying it. “So you were just going to ignore him, pretend you weren’t in?”

James looked down. “You don’t understand,” he said, voice hard.

“I understand far more than you think, Lieutenant McGraw,” said Miranda sharply.

James looked up in shock. “He told you?” James asked, aghast.

“No, of course he didn’t tell me, James! He respects you far too much for that. He’s determined to keep his word, no matter how much it’s hurting him.” James winced. “May I come in properly?”

James stepped back to let Miranda through the door, closing it behind her.

“Then,” he said, running a hand through his hair, ruffling it up even further, “how did you know?”

“I don’t know. I guessed. Since Thomas can’t tell me and you’ve disappeared off the face of the earth, I didn’t have many other options. I know my husband very well, James, and I’m starting to get to know you too.” She heaved a sigh as James’s eyes remained trained on the floor. “What happened?”

“I- I can’t tell you,” said James quickly, eyes flickering to her and then to the door, as if looking for an escape.

“James,” said Miranda, “we haven’t seen you in five days. You’ve not said a word, nor made arrangements for a replacement-”

“I don’t want to stop working with you!” James burst out. “And I’ve had no word from you, either,” he said petulantly.

“I get the feeling Thomas was trying to give you space.”

James opened and closed his mouth like a fish. “Oh,” he said eventually, looking down.

“Professional commitment aside, though, we’re worried about you. We’re your friends.”

“Friends?” said James sarcastically. “Is that _all_ you and Thomas are?”

Miranda nodded, eyes closing. “He told you.”

James inhaled through his nose. “Not in so many words,” he said. “But yes.”

“And?” asked Miranda, raising an eyebrow.

“And, I ran away,” said James, shamefaced. “Like a fucking coward.” Miranda flinched at the vehemence in his voice. “I don’t know what to do,” he said, looking up at her scared and vulnerable. “How can I possibly face him now? I can’t even _talk_ about it.”

“Well, you said yourself that you weren’t willing to be replaced. An apology would probably be a start,” she said, softly.

James nodded. “And then?” he asked, and his voice shook slightly.

“That’s up to you,” said Miranda with a faint smile.

James bit his lip, and then nodded. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

“That’s quite alright,” said Miranda. “And you know he’ll understand, whatever decision you make.”

James nodded again, ears reddening. “I know,” he said. “And you-?”

Miranda sighed. “I want whatever makes the two of you happy.” It wasn’t quite the truth, but it would have to do for now. She got up to leave, kissing him on the cheek. “Come and see us tomorrow, Lieutenant. Bright and early.”

“Shouldn’t I- shouldn’t I come with you now?” asked James, sounding unsure but with eyes full of longing. Longing that wasn’t for her. She looked away.

“If you come now, Thomas will just think I dragged you there, which will make him even more depressed.”

James’s breath hitched. “Has he been- bad?” he asked, as if asking after a friend who was on his deathbed.

“Rather,” sighed Miranda. “But he’ll be much better for seeing you.”

“Will he?” asked James, sounding close to hopelessness.

“Well, you can ask him yourself, can’t you?” she said, trying to be kind, but she was starting to get impatient. Really, did she have to reassure and coddle both of them into each other’s arms? “I really must be going, Lieutenant,” she said, bustling towards the door.”

“Of course,” he said, opening the door for her at once, ever the gentleman. They looked at each other with sad eyes, as if both knew something had come to an end between them. “Well. Goodbye Lady Hamilton,” said James after a long pause.

“Until tomorrow, Lieutenant,” she said, disappearing down the corridor with a smile and a trace of perfume.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is one more to come after this - it's already written, it just depends how long I take to type it up! Any feedback will speed up that process <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James returns to the Hamiltons residence to apologise to Thomas.

“Lieutenant,” said Thomas, greeting James in the entrance hall. He kept his tone carefully neutral, but he couldn’t help a small smile forming on his lips at seeing James again. Despite Miranda’s assurances, he hadn’t been entirely sure he’d come. “It’s good to see you again.”

James smiled tightly. “Yes, well,” he said, clearing his throat and averting his eyes. Clearly he had not taken Thomas’s words in the welcoming tone in which he meant them, but rather as a rebuke. “Perhaps we could talk in the study?”

Thomas felt his insides twist - perhaps James has come to end their partnership once and for all? – but swallowed and nodded. “Of course. Lead the way, Lieutenant,” he said, gesturing.

James stepped past him, but not without casting him a quick glance which Thomas could only describe as smouldering. Thomas felt his stomach flip in an altogether more pleasant manner.

He mustn’t get ahead of himself, however, he told himself as he followed James to his study, a path that James knew as well as Thomas by now.

They entered the room. “Take a seat, Lieutenant,” said Thomas, closing the door behind them. James, to Thomas’s relief and slight surprise, did so without waiting for Thomas to sit first.

“I’m sorry,” said James without preamble, as soon as Thomas had sat down.

Thomas widened his eyes slightly, but otherwise said nothing.

James licked his lips nervously. “I don’t-” He took a deep breath. “What I’m trying to say is – the way I reacted – it was wrong.” He hung his head.

Thomas gave him a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It was perfectly understandable, Lieutenant.”

“James, please,” he said, hating the formality of Thomas’s tone, a formality he had previously tried to insist upon. He wanted to return some semblance of the intimacy they had previously shared back to their conversations. Thomas’s eyes flickered to his in surprise.

“James, then,” he said softly, almost reverently. “I can’t blame you for reacting the way you did.”

“Well, you should!” exclaimed James. “You revealed something – _very_ personal to me,” he said, blushing very slightly, “and I just ran away. Didn’t make contact for five days. For all you know,” he said glancing up at Thomas with pained eyes, “I could have been telling the whole of London, and-”

“I know you’d never have done that,” said Thomas, interrupting him. “I trust you too much to have _ever_ been worried about such a thing.” James looked down, unable to bear the trust this incredible man had in him, when he’d really done very little to deserve it. Thomas licked his lips. “I just missed you, that’s all.” He said it so simply, as if there was nothing to it, and James didn’t know how he could remain so calm when his own body was barely able to contain all the emotions he was feeling, shame and resentment and affection and warmth and – love. He pushed them back down with a great effort.

“All the same,” he said quietly. “I am sorry. I didn’t consider your feelings, I didn’t even _think-_ ” He broke off, his breath hitching and he had to take a moment to calm himself down. This wasn’t right – Thomas should be angry, should be shouting at him for the way he’d treated him, for leaving him with nothing, but he was just sitting there, almost placidly, smiling at James as if his words were everything he needed to hear, and not just some half-hearted apology. “You deserve better,” he said, hunching his shoulders.

Thomas was silent for so long then that James had to look up. The other man was gazing at him curiously, as if not quite sure what to make of his words.

Then, “Thank you,” he said, quite suddenly. “I- I appreciate you saying that.”

James nodded, although God knew Thomas didn’t need to _thank_ him. He had done the very least he could do to make up for his appalling behaviour, and much too late after the fact, at that. In truth, he had spent the past five days examining the situation and his own feelings in light of what Thomas had said. He had not come to any conclusions, the shame and sinful nature of his feelings for Thomas cutting him off sharply whenever he tried to contemplate that, even while he could not find it in himself to condemn Thomas for _his_ feelings.

He had to give Thomas something, though. He deserved more than this.

“About what you said-” he began, and saw Thomas flinch. Perhaps he did not want to talk about it any more than James did. Or perhaps he was merely afeared at what James might say. He wished, longingly and bitterly, that it did not have to be so, that he could reassure Thomas in the way he wanted to, but – alas. “I don’t- I don’t know what to do about it. I have spent the last five days looking at it from every angle, debating it to death inside my own head, and yet – I find I cannot even speak of it aloud.”

He looked at Thomas helplessly, and saw that same helplessness reflected in Thomas’s eyes. “I don’t know if I can ever give you what you want.” _You’d be better off setting your hopes on someone else_ , he thought, but he could not quite bring himself to dash both their hopes so finally.

Thomas nodded, taking it in, a bitter taste in his mouth, but at the same time simply wanting to reach out to James, to touch him, to comfort him, to smooth away the lines of helplessness and fear and uncertainty in his brow.

“But…do you still wish to be my liaison?” he asked, holding his breath.

“Of course,” said James, a little too quickly. “That is, if you’ll have me.”

Something smouldered in Thomas’s gaze before he blinked it away and replied, “Well then, Lieutenant,” and the title had turned teasing, affectionate, “we’ll start from there.”

Things went on more or less as normal from there, although Thomas was more careful with James than he had been before – fewer accidental hand touches and shoulder brushes, not so many remarks that could, if James was being fanciful, have been taken as flirtatious. James found he did not want Thomas to be careful. He found himself pressing against Thomas, leaning closer to him over maps and documents, taking his hand to guide him to a particular spot on the map of Nassau. Their eyes met every time he did this, uncertain but excited, although neither of them said anything. When this happened, the warmth James felt coupled with the happy bubbling in his stomach, almost made him forget that what he was doing, what he was feeling, was deemed wrong by every moral code that he knew.

The next time they met, he had been urgently called on by Thomas, whose father was coming in a few hours to hear their plans for Nassau. Thomas’s face was like thunder when James arrived, hands braced on the fireplace, and he disliked Thomas’s father already, on instinct.

James was confident enough to make a slightly flirtatious remark that had Thomas chuckling a little, and he could feel nothing but gladness that it had brought Thomas out of himself a bit.

That night, after he had kicked Thomas’s father out of his own house, they kissed for the first time.

As Thomas’s lips met his, James could feel no regret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand...canon! *does jazz hands* This is exactly where I wanted to end it, so it slotted neatly into canon. Hope you all enjoyed!
> 
> Feedback much appreciated and cherished!


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